tie it all together
by pancake-potch
Summary: Draco Malfoy and his talisman through the years. Submission for The Houses Competition, Round 10


House: Slytherin

Position: 3rd Year

Prompt: [Color] Violet

Prompt: [Speech] "Why do you smell like that?"

Prompt: [Spell] Gemino

Additional Requirement: House Trait (Slytherin Cunning)

Words: 1170

 _Third Year_

He watches the violet ribbon in her hair, the ends tangling between the strands as she bobs her way arm in arm with Potter and Weasel. It isn't uniform standard, which is why it catches his attention in the first place.

Especiallysince it's _her_ , the rule abiding, high horse riding, sanctimonious Hermione Granger.

The ribbon comes loose and slowly drifts past her shoulders and falls to the floor. Draco flinches and takes a few steps where it lands. Pinching it between his fingers, he's intent on following her and to tell her not to leave her Muggle trash all over the castle, but when he looks up, she's gone.

Draco doesn't realize he's pocketed the blasted thing until he gets undressed for the evening. He throws it on his end table in disgust, but doesn't throw it away.

 _Fourth Year_

There is absolutely no reason he still has it. It's been carried around in his pocket for a year now, transferred from one robe to the next every day since he's found it. Draco tries to justify its existence in some way, this innocuous, every day item belonging to someone who he absolutely loathed.

He thinks about cursing the damned thing and leaving it somewhere for her to find- maybe slip it into her belongings. Charm it so her ridiculous hair would fall out, or catch on fire. He smiles to himself. Surely that's why he carries it around.

 _That'_ s why, he reasons. Just waiting for an ample opportunity.

But no such thought occurs when he sees her at the Yule Ball. Entering with Krum, his heart very near stops and he fingers the ribbon in his dress robes. Pansy, who he'd always found acceptably attractive, suddenly looked dulled…mottled into the background against the bright beauty of Hermione Granger.

He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, and wonders what was wrong with him.

Later that night, after performing the expected (but altogether prudish) heavy petting with Pansy, he tries to read a book in bed. When the attempt to make sense of the words are unsuccessful, he uses the ribbon as a bookmark and places it on the end table.

The last thing he sees before falling asleep is the violet ribbon nestled between the pages.

 _Fifth Year_

Things have gone from bad to worse, and as much as he's enjoyed his new authority, bestowed upon him simply due his birth and station in life (which- _of course_ -makes sense) even he can admit Umbridge has gotten out of hand. The batty old cow has made every one miserable.

He still waits and watches Four Eyes and his Poverty-Stricken Ginger Sidekick for ways to get them in trouble. Lurking in shadows and gleefully smiling while rubbing his hands together (and other villainous behavior he just can't help) when it works still brings him satisfaction, though.

Something happens at the Ministry that involves his father and somehow Hermione Granger ends up in the hospital wing. There are things he knows and things he doesn't know, and as he paces his dorm, his fingers unconsciously make his way to his pocket for the ribbon.

Draco is suddenly aware that it isn't where it has been for two years, and his mind flies into a sudden panic. Reaching again, it's still not there. He pulls out both pockets of his robes and pants, neither of which hold what he's looking for.

His eyes dart around the room and it's nowhere immediately within his line of vision. Forcing himself to calm down, he pulls out his wand. " _Accio_ ribbon," he says a little louder than intended.

It was under his pillow.

Straightening it out on his bed, he stares at it with a mixture of disgust and relief. He doesn't want to think of how it got there. He rubs his nose, and scratches the corner of his eye and stares at it. The stupid thing had become a talisman of sorts, but he _will not_ think any harder as to why that is

With a shaky hand, he points his wand at it. " _Gemino_ ," he whispers and watches as another perfect copy forms. The copy he places under his pillow and the original is balled in his fist.

He _cannot_ lose it again.

 _Sixth Year_

Hermione Granger comes to him bold and brass as can be to accuse him of the Katie Bell nonsense. He scoffs at her and moves to step around her when her hand grips his robes.

" _Please_ , Draco," She pleads. Her eyes are a golden brown, and this close he can see a few freckles that dot her nose. He blinks. How stunning she is.

He opens his mouth to tell her to piss off and to not put her filthy hands on him, for the sake of form, or something. Not that he'd really _mean it_ , or anything. Voldemort is now a constant presence in his life, whether in school or not. The task his was asked to preform is a constant weight on him- getting heavier everyday, and school rivalries or even blood status at this point are of little concern for him. There's a war going on, where people _die_. People like Hermione Granger specifically.

"I-look-I know there's something wrong," she's saying now. "If you didn't- _aren't_ -responsible for Katie, then I'm sorry. But, honestly, I've seen you around. I know you don't want to talk to me, but talk to Dumbledore about whatever it is. Hell help you."

One sentence sticks out. Draco frowns at her, "Watching me, Ganger? I'd be flattered if I wasn't revolted." He leaves her then, wondering if what he said was believable enough.

The Amortentia smells like toffee, old leather books, and cloves. As Slughorn releases them to work on their potions, he brushes by _her_ on accident, and it overwhelms his senses. It's his turn to grab at her robe, stopping her in her tracks.

"Why do you smell like that?" He asks lowly, through gritted teeth. She huffs and tries to get out of his grip, but he won't let her. It's toffee he can smell. Like the sweets he used to eat when he was little.

"Let _go_ of me," she hisses at him, and he does.

Oh, no, no, no.

 _The War_

She's screaming and he can hear it where he is and the ribbon she wore all those years ago are intertwined between his fingers and he presses it to his lips and cries.

He cries for himself, he cries for her, he cries for what they're all forced to do.

 _Post War_

He places the ribbon under her plate at her place at the staff table in the Great Hall at dinner one day. He watches as she picks it up, looking at it curiously.

Draco is plans to tell her about it tonight.


End file.
